Tragic

When I'm feeling lost and helpless after being diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer, my husband is accompanying another woman for her medical checkup. I don't cry or fuss. Instead, I calmly sign the divorce papers. Later, I die without anyone knowing. Unexpectedly, my husband searches the world for me like a madman.

I was feeding my seven-year-old daughter, Lucy Langer, when Robert Langer crashed through the front door, reeking of alcohol. His shirt collar hung askew, and red marks blazed across his neck. "Audrey," he said hoarsely, "someone spiked my drink at the charity gala. But don't worry. I've already had my lawyer handle it." I nodded. After so many years of marriage, I knew he only had eyes for me and our daughter. He never strayed. Or so I believed… until eight months later. While Robert was away on a business trip, his cruise ship caught fire. The news dominated every channel. Clutching a sobbing Lucy, I rushed to the hospital, only to find him swathed in bandages, standing outside the maternity ward. "Becca is pregnant," he murmured. "It was that night at the gala… I didn't think it would happen from just once…" He gulped. "When the fire spread, she saved me. But she… got trapped herself." A newborn's wail pierced the corridor as the delivery room doors opened. Becca White was wheeled out, looking pale and exhausted. She clutched my sleeve and pleaded desperately, "Audrey… my babies can't grow up without a father…"

My husband, Clement Norman, promised to make up for our missed honeymoon. It was five years late, but I was still excited. I got ready and really looked forward to it. But right before we boarded the plane, I realized there was someone extra in our group—Clement's childhood friend, Madison Bowen. He explained half-heartedly, "Madison's never been abroad before. I figured we could bring her along." I wasn't thrilled, but when I spoke up, he made it sound like I was being dramatic. "Are you jealous of our relationship because you didn't grow up with a proper family? I see her as a sister. You wouldn't get it—you grew up an orphan." I chose to stay quiet, not wanting to ruin our honeymoon. But we encountered an avalanche halfway through the trip. My leg got stuck deep in the snow, and I couldn't move. And the first thing Clement did was grab Madison's hand and run. He didn't even look back.

I was the belle of the school, good grades and all. But I wasn't the nerd they thought I was. I had been secretly dating my adopted brother's sworn enemy for three years. Lucian Palma had a strong desire for intimacy, so I went along with him in unlocking countless places to make love. He promised that he would marry me after graduation. Once he took over the family business from his wealthy father, he would make me the happiest woman alive. I believed him, even indulging him in his kink of recording us sleeping together. Lucian assured me that those videos were for his eyes only, and that no one else would ever see them. But then, I accidentally overheard a conversation between Lucian and his friends. "Lucian, you had deliberately staged a hero saving the damsel in distress situation to make Nina Etienne fall for you, all just to get it back at your archnemesis, Aaron North. If he found out his little sister had been sleeping with you, wouldn't it kill him with rage? "You've filmed hundreds of intimate videos, haven't you? When do you plan to release them? We'd love to see the nerd stripped bare under you." I didn't confront him about this. Instead, I quietly walked away and agreed to meet the fiance my father had arranged for me.

I suffered critical injuries that left me in a persistent vegetative state when I tried to rescue my wife, Regina Livingston, from her abductors. Regina spares no expense, spending millions of dollars to bring in the best medical experts in the country to treat me. She watches over me every single night, never weary of caring for me. Four years into my coma, I overhear a conversation between Richard Sutherland—a man I don't know—and Regina. "You've done all you can, Regina," he says. "You don't owe him anything anymore." Regina remains silent. Then, a young boy, Franklin Sutherland, suddenly asks, "Mommy, why do you always visit this man? Who is he?" I'm instantly shocked. Regina and I don't have a child together. I'm completely bewildered, and just as I try to figure it out, I suddenly wake up from my coma.

Kylie Cooper was Jonathan Sinclair's lover for three years. After they broke up, she became his executive assistant. Jonathan treated her coldly and mocked her with sarcasm. Kylie said, "You used me as a stand-in before. Now that she's back, please let me go." However, Jonathan was confused. "A stand-in? I've only ever loved you..."

In the second year of our marriage, which Brett Mason had secured through relentless means, he brought home his latest conquest—a stunning blonde. As the door swung shut, he ran his fingers through her silky hair, flashing me a smug, triumphant grin. "Wanna join us? You might learn a thing or two about not being such a dead fish." I could still recall how he once adored my hair, claiming that just stroking it would melt away his deepest worries. It turned out any woman could serve that purpose. In that instant, a profound sense of release washed over me. I retrieved the divorce agreement I'd stashed away in a drawer and handed it to him. "Sign it, and I'll make room for her." My days were numbered, and I had no intention of wasting what little time remained entangled in his resentment.

On the day the gynecologist confirmed that I was pregnant, my husband, Austin Jones, pushed me into the operating room to donate blood to save his first love. Feeling frail after the blood transfusion, I almost fainted in front of Austin. However, he pushed me away and went to take care of his first love. Furthermore, he hung up on all my phone calls and stayed with his first love all night on the day I miscarried. Time after time, I was met with disappointment. When I finally decided that I had enough of his mistreatment and no longer wanted to love him, he panicked and begged me to give him another chance.

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.

When I follow my boyfriend back to his hometown, I accidentally discover the wounds and scars all over his sister's body. Then, an old lady in the village tells me to flee as quickly as I can. This makes me shudder. Before I can process what's happening, I run into my long-lost best friend at my boyfriend's uncle's house. The way my boyfriend looks at me becomes increasingly creepy…